


Whiskey Stupor

by tookishheart



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Christmas Eve, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8764681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookishheart/pseuds/tookishheart
Summary: Hancock and Nora drink to Christmas, to Nora's new position as Mayor of Diamond City, and to each other. Fluff and declarations of love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radvictoriam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radvictoriam/gifts).



> i am christmas fluff filth and proud  
> not even sorry  
> i ripped the dialogue straight from the game because hancock's canon romance speech broke me and it's so perfect
> 
> this is a gift to laura my best pal 15eva and the one who i can always rely on to play fallout with- merry christmas pal

Nora looks out from the roof of the Home Plate. It’s Christmas Eve, and from the area surrounding both the Dugout and All Faith’s Church come the sounds of drunk adults and young children singing the pre-War carols she loved so much, songs she’d taught them after the people of Diamond City voted her the new mayor. Piper, of course, had an enormous part to play in her campaign. Snow is dusting the roof around her and she smiles despite herself, despite everything. The world is still beautiful even in its desolation. The sky is a pale grey, making the Great Green Jewel stand out more.

The trapdoor behind her squeaks and Nora doesn’t even have to look around to know who it will be.

“Hey, sunshine,” rasps Hancock.

“Hey, Hancock. Come to admire the view?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at him.

“You bet,” he says, not looking away from her. “It’s beautiful. Whiskey?”

Nora accepts the bottle from her patio chair and Hancock sits on the floor next to her.

“Some view, huh?”

“Yeah.”

They pass the bottle back and forth, Nora’s Pip-Boy pinging as the hours drift by in a companionable silence.

Nora hasn’t felt comfortable in silence like this since… well.

The church finally falls silent as the children head in the direction of their homes, dotted around the Wall, laughing and shouting. The Dugout remains busy- it will until the early hours, when the Bobrov brothers will kick out the loud drunks and let those who are sleeping sleep the night away. Nora will, of course, turn a blind eye to them demanding a few caps from the unlucky guests in the morning; though they might waive the fee. Christmas spirit, and all that.

“Hey, uh- Nora.”

Nora looks down from where Hancock is sitting; he’s moved to lean back against her legs, not meeting her gaze.

“Something on your mind?” she replies, sliding the bottle down his chest. Their fingers linger on the bottle together longer than they should, and Nora wants to persuade herself that it’s just the boozy haze that’s settling over her mind that’s making her keep her fingers there, but even with the whiskey her excuse sounds hollow.

“Yeah. I got something I still need ya to hear.”

“Yeah?”

“Most of my life, I’ve been running from the good things I got. Skipped out on my cushy life here, my family,” he says with a broad gesture across Diamond City. “Took off from Goodneighbor with you all those months ago just when my life got good. Hell, running from myself is what made me into…”

The silence is long and thick.

“It’s what made me into a damn Ghoul.”

“…What?” she breathes, taking the whiskey back from him.

“I couldn’t stand the sight of the bastard I saw in the mirror every day, the guy who let all those ghouls here die- the guy who let Vic and his guys beat up all those drifters. That drug was gonna mess me up, and I knew it. The high was… was worth it. Or so I say. In truth? It didn’t seem like a choice at all. Immortality and this gorgeous face’s just a perk.”

Nora is too stunned to laugh. Hancock leans back a little heavier against her legs as if grounding himself against her.

“But being here with you, for the first time in my life… things have just felt right. Running’s the furthest thing from my mind. I left Goodneighbor thinking I was just gonna sharpen up the ol’ killer instinct. But whether it’s fate, or destiny, or just goddamn coincidence, I ended up with someone like _you_. I turned one of the nastiest setttlements in the Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I’d done something I could hang my hat on.”

“You have, John-“

“Nahw, Nora, let me finish. Being out here with you’s made me realise just how small time I’ve been thinkin’. And maybe all my running, from my life, myself- maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.”

“You always ran for a reason, Hancock.”

The bottle slides from her hand down his chest again and this time his fingers graze hers. She doesn’t pull away for a few seconds. From the Dugout comes the sound of ‘We wish you a merry Christmas’. Hancock sighs deeply.

“Been tryin’ to convince myself of that for a long time. Hearing something like that coming from… someone like you… I don’t think you understand what it means to me. Anyway. Let me get to the point. Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found… a part of myself I never realised was missing. That happens sometimes when you’re a Ghoul. If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches.”

Nora doesn’t know what to say, so she reaches down and takes the whiskey. Hancock doesn’t move, like he’s thinking. The snow is still falling, thicker now, and the floodlights have powered down. The only lights are the Christmas trees and the multicolored lights that are glittering. From the Dugout, the drunken revellers have moved onto humming a tune that Nora can’t hear properly. Her world has shrunk to Hancock pressing himself against her legs.

“You have been one hell of a friend.”

Nora feels the resignation in the man sitting in front of her.

She feels it in her heart too, the sting in her chest when she thinks of the world with John Hancock by her side, but only holding his shotgun, not her hand.

“Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?”

She’s said it before she can realise what she’s doing, opened her big mouth in her whiskey stupor.

 _“Christmas time is here- “_ the echoes of the song from the drunks in the Dugout.

“Heh. It that obvious?” Hancock doesn’t turn, but his voice is softer, warmer. He’s shy, too. “Come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.”

“ _Happiness and cheer-“_

“Hancock,” she whispers, her breath fogging and ghosting over Hancock’s tricorn.

He leans his head back into her lap, the hat falling off into the snow around them. His black eyes stare at her with an emotion she can’t put a word to. She meets his gaze squarely and feels oddly sober, considering the whiskey they’ve drunk.

“ _Fun for all that children call their favorite time of year-“_

“John…”

“ _Snowflakes in the air, carols everywhere-_ “

Hancock just blinks, once. Nora vaguely recognises the clink of the whiskey bottle rolling off the roof of the Home Plate, and definitely recognises the crash of it shattering on the sidewalk below.

“John, I-“

“Don’t. I don’t want to mess this up, Nora, I don’t want-“

“ _Olden times and ancient rhymes-_ “

“John, no, John- please just listen. I- uh. Who I fall for is my decision.”

She sucks a breath in. If she says it, it will change things between them irrevocably.

“And I’ve fallen for you.”

John’s eyes widen imperceptibly and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You-“

“I love you, John, I love you.”

“ _Of love and dreams to share_ -“

His lips are rough against hers and hard and they move with an urgency, a _need_. It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of, and all she wants is to lose herself against his lips, again and again and again.

 


End file.
